July 21, 2004 link
I had trouble falling asleep last night. It’s so hot and humid here. Today the heat index is 110 degrees Fahrenheit.
One of our favorite passtimes in Chicago is complaining about the frigid winters. Everybody talks about the cold weather, year-round. We discuss it with our best friends or with complete strangers, and whenever somebody asks how we like living in Chicago, the winter weather is one of the first things we mention. It’s not even that bad—but complaining about it is part of our local tradition.
That’s partly why I’m not a big fan of air-conditioning at home. I’m not an A/C fascist—I stay out of other peoples’ A/C business. In fact, I greatly appreciate the use of air conditioning in public buildings, offices and stores. These places are a great refuge in the summer months.
I just don’t like to use it at home. There are exceptions, like when I have guests or if I’m trapped inside all day. There’s no reason to suffer needlessly, or subject others to the same misery.
More accurately, I don’t like to run the A/C at night. That’s the key. One of the great pleasures of summer is falling asleep with the windows wide open, listening to the crickets chirping and the wind rustling the trees. Keeping in mind the long brutal winters, that’s one pleasure I don’t want to give up, even for one night.
As I was laying there last night, I was thinking how comforting it felt to be uncomfortable. Sure, it was kind of hot, but I had that exhilirating sensation of being alive. I felt like I existed in the real world, not in a cool quiet wooden box.
July 19, 2004 link
My career path has led to me doing most of my work at home. Which is cool, and helps me save money.
But it’s so hard to resist the temptation to wander through the back door into the garden and start pulling weeds, taking photos, spreading mulch and just looking around. In this case, the “forces of nature” are working in the garden’s favor. I’m drawn to it. It’s an extreme challenge to sit inside staring at the computer on a nice summer day. But it must be done.
I still satisfy my outdoor urges by doing a daily watering tour, or picking a few raspberries. When the weekend arrives, I’ll bust down the door and start furiously pulling weeds like a crazed maniac.
July 6, 2004 link
Problem: The raspberry canes were reaching into the main garden path, scratching me every time I tried to pass.
Solution: I built a sweet fence out of an old metal bed headboard. The metal poles of the headboard provide enough support to keep the raspberries in place. And I can reach through the poles to pick the berries. Plus, it looks cool.
It’s amazing how a few man-made elements can make an outdoor area more inviting. I think the purely au natural look is intimidating to people, but just add a chair or a birdbath and people are drawn to it.
July 4, 2004 link
I came across a great article in this morning’s newspaper. It was in the USA Weekend insert, which is included with Sunday papers (in Chicago, that’s the Sun Times) across the nation. The article is titled “Gardening the Founding Fathers’ Way”, by Fran Sorin.
The article describes the lifelong dedication of George Washington and Thomas Jefferson to their gardens. It’s cool to remember that the architects of American democracy were deeply involved with their own growing experiments. In fact, Jefferson kept a detailed garden journal for sixty years, beginning at age 23. That’s impressive…I wonder if I can keep this journal going for sixty years. Check back in 2062!
Most interestingly, the article mentions the founding fathers’ philosophies on gardening and citizenship. The more I think about it, the more I’m enthralled by these ideas. “Cultivators of the earth,” Jefferson wrote in 1785, “are tied to their country and wedded to its liberty and interests by the most lasting bands.” He believed that farmers and gardeners are essential to the health of any society. The micro-lessons learned in the garden help people make better decisions on the local and national scales.
Further, Jefferson writes that “the greatest service which can be rendered any country is to add a useful plant to its culture.” That’s right—the greatest contribution isn’t being president, or framing a constitution. It’s not being a soldier or a firefighter, as many people assert today. It’s being a botanist.
Taken from their historical context, Jefferson’s comments may seem quaint or even ridiculous. Nevertheless, as I look at the fierce power struggles and culture wars taking place in America today, I can’t discount his ideas. As corporate interests are increasingly influencing politics and trade, we are dealing with the effects of obesity, mass consumerism, oil shortages and environmental degradation. At the risk of being labeled anti-American, people are starting to ask where democracy took a wrong turn.
If Jefferson was correct—and liberty is really dependent on “cultivators of the earth”—then we can notice the effects on our culture as we move farther and farther from the soil. If Washington correctly observes that agriculture “may be more conducive than almost any other [occupation] to the happiness of mankind”, then can we say that the disappearance of family farms is causing mankind to be less happy?
I think most people today who are crazy enough to grow their own food (when they could just drive to a perfectly good store) are also smart enough to stay away from politics. But what if farmers and gardeners started running for local offices? What if we had a gardener in the White House?
“Cultivators of the earth are tied to their country and wedded to its liberty and interests by the most lasting bands.”
